


Calm before the Storm

by Saturn9



Series: Clandestine [7]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bittersweet, Foreshadowing, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 09:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16134725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn9/pseuds/Saturn9
Summary: The morning after the events of "If You Let Me" and "Want"Akira has some inner monologue regarding his feelings for Goro.  Also, it seems like the detective might be planning something serious, but he's not dropping any hints.





	Calm before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> took me a while to decide where this shuake train is headed... i think this is the shortest piece yet, p much just transitional. (and i really like writing mornings after lol) 
> 
> installments will probably continue at this pace while I tackle work and try to get back to school.
> 
> thanks again to everyone who has read this series so far, and welcome to any newcomers! your comments and kudos and general support make my day!

The early morning sun painted Goro angelic. The pale light illuminated his skin, highlighting the curves of his body: Akira followed the golden path down his shoulder, his collarbone, the gentle slope of his waist, which gave way to his slender hips and long legs, curled to bend around Akira's knees as they dozed peacefully. Even though he'd been awake for a while, watching the rise and fall of Goro's breathing, he couldn't bear to wake the softly snoring detective. 

Instead, Akira busied himself with memorizing Goro's everything: every shape, every line, every edge or curve of his body; every noise that passed his lips, some worried, some content; the rise and fall of his ribcage, the shadows that settled into the hollow of his collarbone, the warm blush of sleep that dusted his skin. Despite the renewed promise, in the back of his mind, Akira still wondered about the impermanence of this-- of his peace with Goro-- of the detective himself, given the broken arm and the bruises that marred his skin. 

Was this the eye of the hurricane? Would the worsening storm tear them apart again?

Akira didn't usually spend this much time worrying about a future he might be helpless to prevent. But when it came to Goro, he did a lot of unusual things. 

It was an hour or so before Goro stirred with a yawn, stretching and pressing his back into Akira, who was dutifully fighting to ignore the morning that had risen between his legs. 

Goro hummed as he settled back into the bed, sweet and messy and unfairly attractive, even with bedhead. 

“This is nice,” he whispered. 

“Yeah,” Akira agreed, pressing a kiss to the hollow behind Goro's ear. The detective shivered, so Akira drew him closer to capture the warmth between them, even though it pushed his erection into the curve of Goro's backside. 

“Someone's having a good morning,” Goro commented, uncharacteristically playful. 

“Waking up next to you might have helped.”

Despite the heat stirring in his gut, Akira kept his kisses light and chaste, drawing a line down the tendon in Goro’s neck. It was bittersweet, like a lukewarm cup of strong tea, like the sigh that left Goro's lips when Akira lingered on the bruises around his throat. 

It left a hollow ache in Akira's chest, knowing that there was nothing he could do to whomever had left Goro like this, tragic and beautiful and so, so delicate. For so long, Akira had thought of Goro as steel, or maybe iron: sharp and cutting, unbreakable, unyielding. But maybe he was glass, shards of it, lashing out when someone touched him because he couldn't let himself be broken again. 

It was shameful how much Akira loved him for it. 

“We could run,” Akira suggested, his dark eyes absorbing the rare peaceful look on Goro's face before it shifted into something more familiar, less Akechi and more Goro. Happiness was for Detective Akechi, feigned as it was. 

He turned to face Akira and smiled, that biting, sardonic expression that Akira loved and hated all at once. It was real, and hard, and intense, and unequivocally Goro. “I have a job,” he said. “You're on probation.” 

“Are you going to go back?” It was a reasonable question, but Akira couldn't keep the edge out of his voice. Last time Goro had spent the night, he earned himself a broken arm. What might happen this time?

“I don't think I have a choice,” Goro replied quietly, his gaze dropping. 

“Of course you have a choice. Goro, I--”

“He'll find me. He'll find you.”

“You promised you'd stay this time,” Akira reminded. His tone was gentle, neither reprimanding nor expectant, although he wanted to be both. 

“I'm not running anymore,” Goro amended. The sentiment stirred Akira’s curiosity, but the detective’s tone was final, as if he had already made some kind of decision. He had a plan, Akira realized, one that it didn’t feel like he was going to divulge just yet. “I can make this work. Just… trust me.”

Goro Akechi was not trustworthy. Akira got the idea that there were many people he'd throw under the bus to get ahead. But looking at him, catching the blaze of those deep amber eyes, Akira thought that if it came to that, he'd probably jump in front of the bus himself. He was a fool, an idiot, stupidly in love with a detective he should have had nothing to do with. 

“Yeah,” Akira found himself whispering, caught off-guard by the intensity of his own emotions. One day, his affinity for Goro would get him worse than a broken heart. One day, Goro would know how deep Akira’s feelings ran, and the storm would come again. Until then, Akira could only give into whatever the other asked of him. “Okay.”


End file.
